Sacrifices
by kalliopeia
Summary: When Morgan is taken captive by a sadistic unsub, Reid surrenders himself in order to save Morgan's life, leaving the team frantic to find him
1. Chapter 1

**I do own Marvin, Sarah and Elena Reese, plus a few unnamed victims, but CBS can feel free to borrow them if they want. **

**Some violence but nothing worse than the show it's based off of. **

They hadn't known at the beginning that it would be such a brutal case.

There were two victims when they were called in to rural Ohio: male, Caucasian college students. Neither was particularly athletic. Both were far too young to have endured the kind of tragedy they had died of.

The unsub spent 24 hours assaulting them with various weapons, beating them into pulps. Then another 24 hours sexually assaulting the victims- repeatedly and horrifyingly. The third day was spent exsanguinating the victims. At each 24-hour mark, he would send an untraceable video call to the victim's family, jeering about his victory. The third and final video would show the dead body.

The team profiled that the unsub was a male in his mid-forties who had recently suffered a stressor. The unsub was also likely using a stimulant to keep himself awake long enough to complete his sadistic ritual, as well as male enhancement medication on the second day.

It was Rossi who pointed out that an emotionally disturbed, drug-addicted unsub could devolve from his usual pattern at any time.

The team had absolutely no leads.

/

"Remind me again why we're re-interviewing this guy?" Alex Blake groused.

Morgan shrugged. "Partially because he was the last one to see Marvin Reese alive. Partially because we've run out of other things to do and Hotch wants to at least look like we're making progress so the press don't eat us alive."

"Right," Alex sighed, knocking on the door. There was a pause, then a muffled scream.

Morgan promptly broke the door down. The two charged in, guns drawn.

/

Hotch rubbed his temples. "Where are Morgan and Blake?"

"Still off on the interview," Rossi grunted without looking up from the file.

"It's been two hours," Hotch pointed out.

Rossi looked up. "Maybe they've got something."

"I doubt it," Hotch grunted, speed-dialing Morgan. It rung and rung before eventually going to voicemail. He frowned and stared at it. "He didn't reject my call, or answer it. It rung out."

Rossi frowned. Hotch speed-dialed Blake and received the same response.

"Okay, you and I can go check on them," Hotch said in a low, worried voice. "Tell Reid and JJ we're leaving."

/

When they arrived, the door was hanging off its hinges. Hotch and Rossi exchanged a glance before pulling their respective weapons and slipping through slowly.

"FBI, come out with your hands in the air!" Hotch shouted threateningly.

"Hotch! Over here!" Alex shouted. They quickly made their way over to find their newest agent handcuffed to a kitchen table. "He's gone, Hotch, he took him, there was nothing I could do!"

She was panicked, her wrist bloody from pulling at the cuff. Across the room, the witness was on the ground, dead, with half his face blown off.

"Where's Morgan?" Hotch asked.

Alex tugged violently at the cuffs. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen, he wouldn't-"

"The unsub has Morgan?" Hotch asked, his stomach dropping into his shoes.

Alex nodded tearfully. "I tried, I really did, but he took him anyway."

Rossi knelt beside her, taking her hand and rubbing it soothingly. "There was nothing you could have done. What happened?"

Alex gulped, trying to steady herself. "We heard a shout. When we came in, the unsub was there with a stocking over his head. He had a gun on the witness. Morgan and I pulled our guns, but he made us drop them and kick them toward him. Told me to cuff myself to the table or he'd shoot the witness. I did it. He told Morgan to cuff himself to the oven, but Morgan refused, tried to talk to him. The witness tried to pull away and make a go for it, and the unsub shot him. He went crazy. Started rambling about the routine and how it wouldn't work now, how it had happened too soon, how it was wrong and he needed a replacement to finish on schedule. He was walking all over the kitchen, had his back to us. He still had the guns but Morgan tried to sneak up on him, to take him down physically. The unsub heard him and spun around at the last second. He hit Morgan on the head with a cast iron skillet."

Rossi sucked in a breath. "Did he look hurt?"

"He dropped like a rock," Alex whispered. "He was bleeding a lot too. I tried to talk him down but he didn't listen. He dragged Morgan out."

Hotch was dialing his phone. "JJ? Get Reid and a CSU. We need all hands on deck over here… The unsub has Morgan. Bring bolt cutters" He hung up and looked at Alex. "What did he look like?"

Alex shrugged weakly. "He had a stocking over his head. His skin was pale, probably Caucasian. He was huge. Nothing we haven't already seen from the video calls. It didn't seem like a struggle for him to drag Morgan out the door. Hotch, I didn't see enough to help our profile much. We've got nothing… and he's got Morgan."

/

"Jureau," JJ said. "Please, please tell me you've got something."

"JJ? Get Reid and a CSU. We need all hands on deck over here."

"What? What's going on?" JJ asked worriedly.

"The unsub has Morgan. Bring bolt cutters." _Click._

"What?! What do you mean he has… Hotch? Goddammit!" JJ cried, throwing down the phone. She was breathing heavily, choosing to be pissed at Hotch rather than freaked out about Morgan. After all, it made no sense. Morgan couldn't be kidnapped. He'd never let that happen. He was far too strong.

"JJ? Jayje, what's going on?" Spencer Reid asked worriedly.

JJ shut her eyes and paused. "Call in for a CSU, tell them to bring bolt cutters. We need to get over to the witness' house. Something's happened."

Reid walked over and put a hand on her arm, staring at her, concerned. "What's going on?"

JJ swallowed. "He has Morgan," she finally whispered.

/

Blake was freed. The CSU swept the house. They didn't find anything promising. Rossi shuddered as he watched them bag the bloody skillet.

The whole team was in stunned silence. They couldn't understand how something like this could happen. Morgan did all sorts of crazy things- generally involving explosives- but he was usually the victim of his own recklessness, if he was a victim at all. They couldn't imagine someone getting the upper hand on him. It just didn't happen.

"Has anyone called Garcia?" Hotch asked in a low voice.

"Oh, god," Rossi said, burying his face in one hand. "That won't be a pleasant phone call."

"I'll do it," Reid volunteered quietly, walking out of the house and dialing.

"What can I do for you, baby genius?" Garcia asked, her voice bubbly as ever.

"I have bad news, Garcia," Reid said quietly.

Garcia immediately read tragedy in his voice. "Is everyone okay?"

"I don't know. It's not good."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Garcia asked worriedly. "Sweetie, what's going on?"

"The unsub took Morgan," Reid told her finally.

There was a long pause. "No," she finally whispered. "No, that's not possible."

"I know it seems crazy, but it happened. We need you to stay focused so we can get him back as soon as possible."

"Oh, god," Garcia said, tears clear in her voice. "We have a three day timeline."

Reid sighed. "I hope it doesn't take that long."

"Oh, god," Garcia said again, letting out the first sob. "How bad is it gonna be, Reid? How long will it take to find him?"

Reid felt sobs start to shake him too, but he pushed it back. "I don't know."

/

"It's not your fault," JJ said, sitting beside her.

Alex grimaced at the ground. "I couldn't help him."

"No one could have. You were cuffed to a table."

Alex shook her head. "I couldn't save him… do you realize what could happen to him?"

JJ was trying to avoid thinking about it, but she sighed. "I know. And I know it feels like you could have done something, but you couldn't. Look, I get it. I've been where you're at now."

Alex looked up, curious.

JJ sighed. "I guess you haven't heard the story, at least that part of it. A few years ago, Spence got taken captive by an unsub in Georgia. He nearly died- actually, he did die, briefly. I was his field partner when he was taken. Now, I realize that there was nothing I could have done differently, that it wasn't my fault. At the time though, and afterward, I blamed myself. I kept thinking that we might never see him again, and it would be because of me. It didn't happen, and even if it did, it wouldn't have been my fault. It's not your fault now. It's the unsub. So stop blaming yourself and buckle down on who's really at fault."

/

It was slow going on the case, despite the frantic nature of their searching. Hotch gave Alex a cognitive interview, tried to get as much from her as possible. She gave them more details, but nothing helpful to the profile. He was large, white, frantic, probably high. Working on some sort of timeline.

Garcia ran everything she could think of running into her magic box, but couldn't find anything meaningful. She sat alone in her room, far away from the team, tears running down her face.

"Please, please find him," she whispered into the silence.

The rest of the team searched constantly, taking no breaks, following every lead. Still, with no tangible evidence and not nearly enough of a profile, there wasn't much they could do.

Through it all, every single one of them kept an unspoken eye on the clock, measuring the suffering of their friend.

/

JJ dialed the number, her hands shaking. She'd made calls like this before, but rarely so personal, so difficult.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Fran Morgan?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"My name is Jennifer Jureau."

There was a gasp and a pause. "W-what is it?"

JJ closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I have bad news."

The voice trembled. "Is he dead?"

"No ma'am, we don't believe so," JJ said, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"You don't believe so? What's going on?" Her voice simultaneously took on a worried and relieved tone.

"He's being held captive by an unsub."

There was another pause. "How much can you tell me?"

JJ bit her lip. "I'm afraid that's about all I can tell you." This, while untrue, JJ considered a mercy. The additional details would do Fran Morgan no good at this point.

/

"Go back to the hotel. We'll be more efficient after we get some sleep," Hotch said dully.

Nobody moved.

"Right then. Carry on," Hotch said, turning back to his file. It was past midnight. They had nothing, and if he was sticking to his 24-hour schedule, they were halfway through day one.

/

Reid was staring, frustrated, at his geographic profile.

"The map giving you trouble?" Rossi asked tiredly from behind him.

"It's not the map's fault," Reid replied. "It's as useful as it can possibly be with so few data points."

"And how useful is that?"

"Exactly not useful at all," Reid said honestly, staring at the map. "He lives somewhere in this area. That's… something we already knew. You got anything?"

"No," Rossi said. He patted Reid on the shoulder. "We'll get something eventually."

"Eventually isn't good enough. We have six hours until the start day 2."

None of them wanted to think about day 2, and none of them could help it.

/

"Have any of you got anything?" Garcia's voice was desperate over speaker phone.

"We're working on it," Hotch said diplomatically.

"Need me to search anything?" she begged.

Hotch sighed. "Not right now. Standby, Garcia."

"Guys, you only have a few hours left before… before the twenty-four hour mark," Garcia said quietly.

"Yeah, we know," Hotch said quietly. It was evident in his tone that he knew they had no chance of finding him before then.

Every member of the team alternated between increasingly desperate bids for information and defenseless, horrified staring at clocks as they ticked steadily down. Soon, either they or Morgan's family in Chicago would receive the first video call. The first twenty-four hours were coming to a close.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm getting a call on my tablet!" JJ was the first one to notice, but then panic spread as they all found a simultaneous call to theirs. Hotch's phone rang, as a panicked Garcia demanded to know whether they were getting the call too and what to do.

They accepted, all feeling sick.

The first shot was the stocking-covered face of the unsub. "You should not have crossed me, BAU," he said triumphantly. "You walk around with your badges and your guns as though you are so powerful, but I have one of your own and I have brought him to his knees." The unsub stepped back and revealed their missing teammate.

Derek Morgan was bruised and bloody. His shoulder was set unnaturally. His face was distorted with pain. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving. He was on his knees, with both hands on the floor for balance. He was wobbling and seemed close to falling over on his own. There was a pool of vomit nearby.

Garcia, alone in her lab, let the tears run freely down her face as her shoulders shook. She emitted no sound.

Hotch glared in an unrelated direction, his eyebrows dropping in fury.

Alex bit her lip, guilt coursing through her for letting this happen.

Rossi's hands shook as he tried to keep a brave face.

JJ winced, turning away, unable to continue watching.

Reid's eyes widened as terror crossed his face. He leaned closer to his tablet, studying the image.

On screen, Morgan opened his eyes and glanced at the camera before looking away.

"I have an FBI agent at your mercy, and there's nothing you can do to stop me from doing whatever I want to him, whatever I-"

"You have to give him back!" Reid interrupted in a frantic voice.

Even under the stocking, the smirk was visible. "And why would I do that?"

"Because he's dying," Reid said emphatically.

The unsub paused. "What?"

"Look at his pupils. One's much larger than the other. He has a concussion, a severe one. The vomiting, the loss of balance- he's not going to last much longer without medical help," Reid insisted. The rest of the team could read the truth in his terrified eyes.

"So?" the unsub asked, but he seemed to be listening to Reid, which was a good sign.

"So, if you plan to stick to your three-day schedule, he'll die long before you have a chance to kill him." Reid paused, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "I know you don't want that. I know you want to stick to your schedule. But that's just not going to happen. If he doesn't get medical help, he'll die, and soon."

The unsub paused. "You're right, I don't want to disrupt my schedule. But why would giving him back to you be any better than letting him just bite it right here?"

Reid shut his eyes, let out a trembling breath, and said, "Because if you give him back you can have me instead."

Immediately, every head in the room spun to look at him.

Reid, strengthening in resolve, ignored them. "We'll trade. You give Agent Morgan up for medical treatment, and I'll go with you. I'm more your type than he is. I'm in good health, I'm not likely to die partway through. It's the best way for you to finish your ritual without getting too far behind. It's your best option."

"Spence, no!" JJ whispered. "No, don't do this, don't _do_ this!"

The unsub appeared to be considering it.

"We do the switch on your terms. No snipers, I won't have a gun, GPS, or wire. You name the locations. My only requirements are that it happens within the next two hours, I'm allowed to get paramedics to Agent Morgan, and that Agent Morgan arrives in the same condition he's in now."

The unsub nodded sharply. "I hope you know what you're getting into, Dr. Reid." The transmission cut.

Everyone slowly turned toward Reid, who kept staring dead ahead, a determined look on his face.

"Reid, you don't have to do this. No one's expecting you to do this, and no one will blame you if you back out. This isn't your responsibility." Hotch was uncharacteristically the first to break the silence.

Reid let out a breath. "I know."

JJ walked over and grabbed his arm. "Spence, don't do this, please don't do this."

He turned toward her. "Jayje, I have to."

"There's got to be another way," Garcia said, her voice over the speakerphone laden with unshed tears. "There has to be a third option."

"There's not," Reid replied quietly. "There's no time for another game plan, there's no time for us to find him some other way. He is going to die unless I do this, now."

There was a long pause before Garcia said in a low, shaky voice, "We'll do everything in our power to find you in time. Godspeed."

JJ tried to talk Reid out of going. She pled with him, begged him not to leave Henry without a godfather, tried to persuade him not to sacrifice himself.

He finally stopped replying, focusing on preparing himself mentally for what he was about to do. He tried not to hear her pleas, tried not to feel the clutching hand on his.

The rest of the team stood, silent, unable to find the right words to express what they were feeling. Rossi's hand rested on Reid's shoulder, more solidarity than pressure to stay or go. Reid was thankful for the anchor. Alex was pacing, still feeling guilty that the decision had to be made in the first place.

Hotch just stood still, in the corner, wishing desperately not to have to make this choice, not to have to make this call. He cringed at the thought of willingly feeding Reid to the wolves, as it were. On the other hand, the only way to keep them both alive was to make this trade, and he knew that. He couldn't resign himself to losing one of his agents. He would have to let Reid go if it was really his decision.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Reid's tablet rang. He flipped it open, accepting the call.

"I've emailed you coordinates- longitude and latitude. Drive there. Go alone. No backup. More instructions there."

"No," Reid said firmly. "Tell me how I'll get my friend to an ambulance, or I won't go."

The unsub sighed. "Upon your arrival, I'll give you a phone. You'll call someone who can trace it, they will, and they'll call someone in to the location. By the time they get there, you and I will be gone. Agent Morgan will remain. Is that sufficient?"

"Yes."

"You come alone. No one follows you, or you're both dead, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You have half an hour." The transmission cut.

Reid opened his email, read the contents, then put down the tablet and unhooked his gun, setting it and his phone on the desk.

"No, no, don't do this," JJ begged again, grabbing his arm. "Spence, you can't go in there! Do you know what could happen to you? Do you really get it?"

"Yeah, JJ, I get it," Reid replied tersely. "But it's the only way. Let go of my arm, I've got to go."

JJ shook her head tearfully. "I won't let go. I won't let you do this."

"It's his choice," Rossi said, speaking up for the first time since Reid announced his intention to trade. His voice was solemn, but firm. "He's the only one who gets to make this decision and he has. Let go, JJ."

Her lip wobbled. She let out a sob and flung herself into Reid's arms. He stumbled back slightly before hugging her awkwardly. "JJ, I need to go."

She stilled and pulled back, strength returning to her face. "We'll find you. Don't give up on us."

"I won't," Reid promised. He turned and walked away from them before pausing and turning back. "If the worse happens, make sure he knows it was my choice, no one else's."

"We will," Rossi agreed solemnly.

Reid left.

/

He stopped the car on the side of a road, where his rarely incorrect mind told him the coordinates led. He got out and stood silently, waiting.

The road was abandoned, so when a beat-up van pulled up beside him, he knew immediately who it was. Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Reid approached the car with his hands in the air.

The unsub, stocking in place, climbed out of the driver's seat and opened the back of the van. Morgan was there, unconscious but otherwise no worse off than before.

"Same condition, like you said," the unsub told Reid, handing him a prepaid phone still in the packaging. "Put it together and call someone to trace the call."

Reid moved over beside Morgan, putting himself between his fallen friend and the unsub. He put together the phone and dialed with one hand, wrapping the other around Morgan's wrist, comforting himself with the feel of the other man's pulse.

"G-Garcia."

"Hey, it's me. Trace this call, okay?"

"Already done," she replied, her normally cheerful voice strained. "How is he?"

"No worse," Reid said honestly. "Dispatch paramedics to the location."

He heard her draw in a shaky breath. "Done."

"Bye, Garcia."

"Good luck, my favorite baby genius."

He ended the call, handing the phone back to the unsub. The man nodded. "Move, so I can put him on the ground.

Reid did so, dropping Morgan's wrist and immediately missing the comfort of it. The unsub pulled him out with relative ease, putting him on the side of the road gently so as not to anger his new captive.

"In," the unsub said, pulling his coat to the side to reveal a gun. The firearm didn't matter. Reid couldn't do anything else now.

/

The team rode up screeching in black SUVs just as the ambulance was loading him up. Alex was the first one out, sprinting toward the paramedic.

"How is he? Will he be okay?" she asked the paramedic.

She shrugged. "Head wounds are hard to predict, and his is bad. But now that we have him, we'll try to stabilize him. He's lucky to have survived this long- a few more hours and we would have lost him. I have to go, meet us at the hospital."

"Hey, Mrs. Morgan? It's JJ again. I just wanted to let you know that we've got him."

Fran Morgan started sobbing in pure relief. "Thank you so much. Can I talk to him?"

"He has a concussion. It's a bad one, but the doctors are working on him now. They say they should get him stabilized soon. I'll have him call you when he's awake and caught up on the investigation, okay?"

Mrs. Morgan paused. "There's still an investigation?"

JJ closed her eyes, trying to spare the woman the additional worry. "We were able to negotiate with the unsub to get him to give Derek back, but we haven't caught him yet."

"When you find him, do me a favor and shoot him."

That made JJ smile just a bit, despite everything. "We'll see, ma'am."

/

"Garcia?"

"Please tell me you have something for me to search," Garcia said desperately. "I feel so useless."

"I don't. Fly over here. Bring everything you need to be at top effectiveness. The doctors have Morgan stabilized, but they're keeping him sedated for a while to allow his body to recover. I need you to stay with him while we work the profile."

"That I can do, sir."

"Garcia, you'll also need to catch him up on the situation when he wakes up."

Hotch heard a sharp intake of breath on the line.

"He's not going to like it, Hotch," Garcia said quietly. "But I'll tell him."

/

"Okay, he was willing to make a trade, and coherent enough to do so in a way that wouldn't get him caught. What does this tell us?" Hotch asked.

The team, already having gone a full day without sleep, stared blearily at him.

"He's an addict," Alex finally said. "He has a full-fledged addiction to whatever he's on. Otherwise, the stimulant would cause him to act too erratically to complete the drop well. The stimulant allows him to stay awake, but otherwise his behavior doesn't seem too unusual."

Hotch nodded and wrote it down. At the top of the page he wrote _3 hours into day 1._


	3. Chapter 3

"Family of Derek Morgan?"

Garcia stood up. The rest of the team was back at the station, searching desperately. "Here."

"He's still sedated, but if you'd like to go in and visit him you can. We've finished our tests for the time being."

"How is he?" Garcia asked nervously.

"Lucky. If he'd been out there a few more hours, he'd be dead. But we've got his injuries stabilized. Three broken ribs, four bruised. Cracked shoulder, sprained knee, and moderate internal bleeding. The concussion, of course. Plus other abrasions and bruises. But he's stabilized. Head wounds are tricky, but he should recover. I'll take you to his room."

"Did you run a rape kit?" Penelope asked. She hated having to ask the question, but the unsub did have him for slightly over the first 24 hours.

"We did. Negative."

Penelope let out a relieved sigh. At least there were small miracles.

_5 hours into day 1. _

_/_

"He's got to live in a secluded place. No duct tape residue, no signs of gagging on the victims," Rossi noted. "So he lives somewhere out of earshot from society."

"Yeah, victims had to have been screaming like hell," one of the officers noted.

"Please, please don't say that," JJ nearly begged him.

The officer looked trite, suddenly remembering the circumstance. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"How much of our geographic profile is that rural?" Hotch asked.

Alex, who as the second-most-academic member of the team had been tasked with the map, scowled. "Pretty much all of it. Plus we still have an area the size of Switzerland, even after I calculated in the exchange site. I hate these things. Why has no one written a computer program to do all the math yet?"

"Because it can't be written. The variables in each case are too different, and apparently it's less work to do it all by hand," Hotch murmured, surprised he had actually retained information from that particular session of enthusiastic rambling.

_7 hours into day 1._

_/_

"Rossi, can you- Rossi?" Hotch asked, turning around. Rossi had fallen asleep in his chair, and Hotch couldn't blame him. The whole team had been awake and running for over 32 hours now. Hotch walked over and gently shook his colleague awake.

Rossi grunted. "Sorry." He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking at the paper.

"Let's go back to the hotel room. No one is making any progress. We're running on empty," Hotch said.

Rossi nodded. "Hate to do it, but I can't keep going."

"None of us can. Tell the others to go sleep, meet back here in four hours."

_8 hours into day 1._

_/_

The team, having crashed into mild comas for a few hours, came back at least slightly more refreshed, but more and more worried about time.

The four agents working the case each felt tears threaten to overcome them each time they hit the end of a lead and failed to find another in its place.

"We need to talk to Morgan," Hotch finally concluded. "Morgan has to have the key."

_12 hours into day 1. _

_/_

"No, he's not awake yet," Garcia said into her phone. "Yeah, I told him, but he said it's not safe yet. Head injuries apparently require lots of recuperation time… Look, Hotch, I'll keep talking to the doctors about it, and when anything changes I'll call you. Calling me every half hour isn't helping anyone. You guys just… just do what you do." She hung up and took Morgan's still hand in hers, biting her lip and praying for a miracle.

_15 hours into day 1._

_/_

"Something about the victimology seems weird," Rossi declared.

"What?" JJ asked.

"I don't know. It just seems off…" Rossi trailed off, his furry eyebrows wrinkled in thought. "The ritual feels so specific to me, and the fact that the drug-addicted, delusional unsub keeps sticking to it makes me think that it represents something to him."

"Agreed. To him, it has some kind of meaning. It's not just for the sadism," Alex added. "He thinks the ritual will accomplish something. But what does that have to do with victimology?"

Rossi frowned in concentration. "Why was Reid more valuable to him than Morgan? Why would he bother complete the ritual with either of them? If the ritual is so specific, why isn't the target?"

"Reid looked more like the other victims. White, young-looking, slim- like the first two," JJ pointed out.

"Yeah, but the first two were way more specific. College students, raised in this town. It was almost like he was looking for someone specific," Rossi mused. "Like a revenge fantasy, except he wasn't sure who committed the infraction."

Hotch frowned. "Okay, that is how I would've profiled the first two kills, but you're right. If that was the case, he'd have no use for Morgan or Reid."

"I know. I can't make sense of it," Rossi sighed.

_18 hours into day 1._

_/_

"He's delusional. Maybe his delusion started off searching for a specific person, and then spun out of control, making him complete the ritual no matter what?" JJ suggested.

"That makes sense, but we have to figure out why before we can find him," Hotch replied.

"He keeps talking about a timeline," Alex added. "He was distressed by the news of Morgan's concussion because he didn't want to disrupt his schedule, and he accepted Reid because it was the quickest way to get a fresh… person." _Victim._

"Okay, so his delusion runs on a timeline of some kind. There's nothing apparent in the spacing between the victims, though," Hotch said. "I'll call Garcia and see if she can find anything about the dates." He pulled out his phone and left the room.

_20 hours into day 1._

_/_

"Okay, I got something. In a search that under normal circumstances would be wholly unnecessary, I discovered that the dates were all dates that ancient Mesopotamian tribes performed rituals intended to bring back the dead," Garcia rattled off.

"Figures, the one case where that would have been relevant… Anyone in the town have a background in that kind of thing?" Hotch asked.

"As lovely as it would be, it does not appear to be so."

"Thanks, Garcia. How's Morgan?"

Garcia sighed. "The good news is, they're reducing sedation. The bad news, by best estimate he'll be awake in six hours."

Hotch cringed. "Garcia, he's our best lead to getting to Reid. We only have another 2 hours until we get another video call, then break into day 2. See if you can lean on the doctors."

"I'll try, Hotch."

_22 hours into day 1._

_/_

"Uh, are you guys getting a transmission I'm not getting?" Garcia asked over speaker-phone.

"Nope," Rossi replied.

"Shouldn't we be getting a video call?"

"Yup."

"Why aren't we?" Garcia asked, suddenly worried. She'd spent enough time around profilers to know that changes to the routine were very rarely good.

"Dunno," Rossi replied. "Standby, Garcia." He hung up, not wanting to lower the girl's spirits even more.

_24 hour mark_.

/

Alex held her hair and puked violently into the toilet. When the retching stopped, she wiped her mouth and flushed, leaving the stall to find a sympathetic-looking JJ.

"Sorry," Alex muttered without really knowing why. She went to wash her hands. JJ stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I know you're scared," JJ said quietly. "We all are. It's okay to admit it."

"I feel so guilty," Alex whispered, tears threatening her eyes. "But I have to be strong. I have to help solve this case. If I break down I've just compounded my mistake."

"Blake, we're all about to break down. I'm falling apart. Hotch is shaking and returning from coffee runs with suspiciously red eyes. Rossi's mastered the art of drinking a gallon of coffee without tearing his eyes away from the file. Garcia's holding Morgan's hand and crying over the phone. There's no shame in letting people see you bleed when you've been cut."

Alex nodded. "I know, but I feel like if I break down, I've let him down. He's already paying for my mistake. I can't make it worse."

_1 hour into day 2. _

_/_

"Okay, it's been long enough that we're not getting a video transmission," Rossi said to the solemn room.

"Why change pattern? He's been pretty consistent in his ritual up until now," JJ pointed out.

"Agreed. For being on stimulants, he's been very consistent up until now," Hotch said. "Why the change in MO?"

"It's possible that switching captives mid-ritual threw him off balance enough to cause a break in routine," Rossi said grimly.

Hotch picked up the phone and dialed. "Garcia, did you record the phone conversation with Reid?" A pause. "Good. See if you can isolate the background noises, specifically the unsub talking. We're trying to figure out his emotional state. Thanks, Garcia."

_2 hours into day 2. _

_/_

Garcia frowned and played it again. There had to be something there, had to be something in the background, but it was evading her thus far.

There was a muffled grunt from the bed. Immediately, she paused the tape.

"Morgan?" she whispered, tightening her hold on his hand. "Derek, you okay in there?"

He groaned. "Damn, baby girl, what happened to me?"

"You got hit on the back of the head with a cast iron skillet. Do you remember that?"

He rolled over slowly, facing her, blinking against the intrusive light. "Yeah." His eyes widened. "Is Alex okay?"

Garcia bit her lip. "Yeah, she's fine."

Morgan raised one curved eyebrow. "But?"

Garcia shook her head. "I have to get the doctors so they can check you out."

"Garcia," Morgan said with a warning tone. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"I'll tell you everything when the doctors have verified that your head injury is doing okay," Garcia said firmly, squeezing his hand before setting it down and walking out of the room.

_4 hours into day 2._

_/_

"Doctor says I'm doing better, still beat as hell, but doing better, now will you please tell me what's going down?" Morgan asked fiercely. "Is everyone okay?"

Garcia blinked back tears. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Garcia, what the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"Reid was the one who noticed on the video chat that you had a concussion," Garcia whispered. "He realized that you would only have a few hours to live if you didn't get medical attention, because it had already been a full 24 hours since the injury. We didn't have any leads, we weren't anywhere near finding you."

Morgan was staring at her with wide-eyed horror. "No. Garcia, tell me he didn't..."

"It was the only way," Garcia said. "He volunteered to take your place, the unsub accepted. Morgan, if he hadn't done it, you'd be dead."

"How long has it been?" Morgan demanded. Garcia sucked in a breath and looked away. "Garcia, tell me!"

"We're six hours into day 2," she whispered.

"Day…" Morgan started to repeat, then buried his head in his hands. Garcia saw his shoulders shake with silent, helpless sobs.

"I'll go call Hotch," she whispered, giving him privacy in his suffering.

_6 hours into day 2._

_/_

"What did the vehicle smell like?" Rossi asked, giving a cognitive interview.

Morgan, eyes closed, tried to remember. "Mildew. Dirty."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"I don't know. All I could hear was the ringing," Morgan said, absentmindedly touching his bandaged head.

"All right. How long was the ride?"

"Not sure, I was fading in and out. Felt long."

"Did the feel of the ride change at any point? Did the road become a gravel or dirt road?"

Morgan paused, focusing. "Yeah, it was gravel for part of it. The sound aggravated my head a lot."

"How roomy was the vehicle?"

"Pretty roomy. I was able to lay down without being too cramped. Probably a van with the seats removed. I kept my eyes closed though, so I can't be sure."

"Okay. When you arrived, how long was the walk from the vehicle to the house?"

Morgan frowned. "I think I was out for that part. I remember the bottom of my jeans being filthy though, so it was probably a dirt drive, not concrete or gravel."

"Okay, good," Rossi said encouragingly. "Where did you wake up?"

"A room. Basement, I think- no windows. Brick walls. It was really old- probably a hundred years old, maybe more. I was- I was thinking about how I'd remodel it when he was going at me."

"Did he take off his stocking?"

"I don't know," Morgan admitted. "I kept my head down. I was too dizzy to stand, and looking up made the light hurt my head."

"Do you remember him saying anything to you?"

Morgan frowned. "Yeah, he said something. I was really fuzzy at that point so I'm not sure exactly…"

"Think, Morgan. What did the room smell like?" Rossi asked emphatically.

"Dusty. Old," Morgan replied.

"How did you feel?"

"I could barely feel the injuries he was laying on me," Morgan said distantly. "I could only tell when he hit me because my body would move. All the pain was in my head. I was dizzy, I couldn't hear well or see clearly."

"But you did hear something. What was it?"

Morgan's lips thinned. Then: "He apologized. And a name: Sarah. I have a sister with that name, only reason I remembered it."

"Was he talking about your sister?"

"No," Morgan said, frowning in concentration. "He said… he said he knew I wasn't the one who killed Sarah. That's why he apologized, I think."

"Can you remember his exact words?"

"Uh… something like, 'I'm sorry I have to do this. I know you weren't the one who killed Sarah.'"

Rossi nodded, scribbling it down. "That's very helpful. Do you remember anything else?"

Morgan shook his head. "Just trying to focus on the walls while he hit me with things. After that, all I remember is trying to hold myself together. Nothing about him. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Most people can't give information that thorough when they aren't dying of head injuries," Rossi said, patting his shoulder. "That was helpful. Get some rest, do what the doctors tell you too, try to keep Garcia sane. We'll keep you informed."

_8 hours into day 2. _


	4. Chapter 4

Garcia angrily picked up the phone. "Look, I've told you, he didn't say a word while Reid was on the phone with me! I've analyzed it nineteen different ways, shrinked it, enlarged it, mapped it, ran it against every program I have, but I can't tell you words he just plain didn't say!"

"Garcia, calm down," Rossi said. "I'm just calling to tell you to get back to Morgan's room and run a search on homicides of women named 'Sarah' in the area."

She paused. "Right. Call you back."

/

"Okay, my comrades, there are absolutely zero Sarahs dead of homicides in this town," Garcia announced. "This time two months ago, there were only three homicides in the past two years."

"Can you run any Sarah who died any kind of unnatural death?" Hotch asked.

"Of course I can. Let's see… I've got a Sarah Kingsburg who died in childbirth, a Sarah Reese who committed suicide, a Sara Livingston who-"

"How?" JJ interrupted.

"I'm sorry, my pigeon?"

"How did Sarah Reese kill herself?"

"Ahh… she slit her wrists," Garcia told them.

"That's it," JJ announced, a genuine smile appearing on her face for the first time in days.

"She bled to death, like our victims," Hotch said, catching up. "Good catch, JJ. Garcia, get me all you can on Sarah Reese and her family."

"I will call you back, my loves."

_9 hours into day 2._

_/_

It was not easy for Garcia to be at her peak efficiency while simultaneously attempting to coddle Morgan into not hating himself.

"Hot stuff, it wasn't your fault. It was his decision," Garcia said while pecking ferociously at her computer.

"If I'd done what he'd said he never would have taken me," Morgan muttered into his arms where his face was buried. "If I'd followed protocol, he never would have had to do this for me."

"If you'd followed protocol, the unsub would have taken a civilian right in front of your eyes, and you would be feeling just as guilty."

"Yeah, but Reid would be safe. Garcia, it's day 2, and we haven't gotten him out of there yet," Morgan said, lifting his head. He was trembling. "Am I the only one who remembers what day 2 means?"

Garcia grimaced. "No, sweetie, you're not. Morgan, he's a resilient kid."

"I'm not convinced anyone's that resilient," Morgan muttered, putting his head back into his arms.

Garcia sighed. Her computer beeped. She sat up and began dialing.

"Okay, here's what I've got. Four months before her suicide, Sarah Reese was beaten and raped. She filed a police report, listed the doer as a white male, about 20, but the police never had any suspects. Her father, Marvin Reese, tried to sue the state for negligent homicide, blaming them for Sarah's death, but he lost the case. He kept repealing, but he lost those too and eventually the bank foreclosed on his house, because he was paying attorney fees and not the mortgage. Around the same time, the police chief mentioned in an interview that the Sarah Reese case had gone cold. That was just before the first murder."

The same police chief, who was in the room, shook his head. "Marvin? No way, I've known him for years. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"It can't be a coincidence. Beaten, raped, bled out- he's repeating the trauma of what his daughter went through on potential murderers, at least in the beginning," Hotch said.

"After that, most likely the drugs he was taking began to delude him into thinking he could bring her back by completing the Mesopotamian ritual, which is why he attempted to continue even with victims who couldn't have harmed Sarah," Alex added. "Garcia, does Reese have any connections with ancient Mesopotamia?"

"Let me see… Indeed he does, a brother by the name of Jacob Reese is a museum curator in New York with a background in that area. He didn't come up in my first search because he's never lived in the area."

"Garcia, does Marvin Reese have any land in the area?"

"Nope, the bank has now repossessed his house," Garcia said. They could hear the sound of clicking keys over the phone. "No relatives in the area either."

"Okay. Can you comb the internet for possible contacts with land he could be using?" Rossi asked.

"Of course I can. Over and out."

Hotch turned to the police chief. "If you know anything, you have to tell us," he said fiercely.

The chief raised his hands. "I swear I don't. But you've got to have the wrong guy. I agree it's a weird coincidence, that what's happening is similar to what happened to poor Sarah, but Marvin's the gentlest man I've ever met."

"When did you last see him?" JJ asked.

"When his last appeal was denied," the chief said sadly. "I haven't seen him since. I've no idea where he's staying."

_11 hours into day 2. _

_/_

"Okay, I've got some former coworkers, former neighbors, and the like, but no one who has extra land like that, and no evidence that any of them would lend it out without asking questions anyway," Garcia said quickly into the phone, gulping some Redbull. "Man, you guys have got to be dying over there. I'm about to pass out, and I slept on the plane over."

"Yeah, it's starting to become a problem. We'll start sleeping in shifts. You go ahead and head to the hotel if you need to. Thanks, Garcia," Hotch said, hanging up. "Rossi, you and JJ go crash for a few hours. Alex and I will work until you come back and relieve us, all right?"

"Sounds good," Rossi grunted.

_12 hours into day 2. _

_/_

"It doesn't make sense. If his delusion is telling him that he can bring his daughter back from the dead by completing this ritual, why break from it by skipping the video call?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. It's likely that Reid's figured out the significance of the dates. Maybe he said or did something to throw off the unsub enough to make him change his ritual," Hotch suggested.

"Why would he do that? With an unsub this disturbed, any change in MO will likely be an acceleration of the timeline," Alex pointed out.

Hotch shrugged, looking down. "Day 2 is pretty brutal. Maybe he took a chance."

"Hotch, we should at least consider that he aggravated the unsub into killing him on purpose, to avoid day 2."

Hotch shook his head adamantly. "No. If there's one thing Spencer Reid does not do, it's give up."

_14 hours into day 2._

_/_

Morgan was alone in his hospital room, Garcia having taken the opportunity to go catch a few hours of sleep. He was staring at the wall, glancing at the clock periodically. Each time he did it made him cringe.

The case had seemed so simple when Garcia had first announced it over the table. It made Morgan's stomach curl that such sadism felt simple now, but he hadn't even blinked when Garcia told them the details. Now, knowing that the son of a bitch had Reid- _his_ Reid- and was inflicting that same sadism on him was killing him.

Morgan felt like vomiting, but there was nothing in his stomach. He felt like crying, but his eyes burned dry. His hands shook. He wanted to help, but he knew that if he tried to stand, he'd become so dizzy that he'd fall over. There was nothing he could do but sit there and pray to a God he'd stopped believing in long ago for some kind of miracle.

He tried briefly to picture the team finding him alive, but it didn't help. It was day 2. It was the day that the first two victims were raped, repeatedly and horrifically. Even if they found Reid alive at this point, he wasn't sure it would be for the best. The Reid they knew and loved would be broken, maybe gone.

_16 hours into day 2._

_/_

Rossi and JJ sat at the table, staring at files.

"Where is he?" Rossi muttered aloud. "No family in the area, no notable friends, nothing. Where can he be staying?"

"The lab is processing Morgan's clothes. Since he was dragged outside, hopefully they can find something in the soil that will lead us to the location," JJ told him.

"That'll narrow the search area, to be sure, but it won't find him for us. We need to figure this out," Rossi said, staring at the file even though he now had every word memorized.

JJ nodded. "Who was Sarah's mother? I haven't heard anything mentioned about her."

Rossi frowned. "Me neither. I'll call Garcia."

_18 hours into day 2._

_/_

"Okay, here's what I've got. Elena Reese, formerly Elena Ivanov, was arrested shortly after Sarah's birth in 1997 for money laundering. Apparently the lovely lady was a part of the Russian mafia."

"Oh, good, mafia connections. Because this case wasn't complicated enough," Rossi grumbled. "Okay, does she have any land?"

"Yes, but it's in Russia."

"Any evidence that Marvin knew she was in with the mafia?"

"Well, no, but could someone really hide that from their spouse?"

"Not easily, but it can be done."

"…I'll take your word for it," Garcia said.

"What was the mafia doing in Podunk, Ohio anyway?" Rossi asked.

"Not much, now, but in the 90s this was a location of a fairly big dot-com business scam. Elena, along with a few others, would get hired on to create websites for businesses, and she'd steal money from them. It was actually a clever operation."

"You said a few others. Did any of them leave land behind when they went to jail?"

Garcia blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Rossi, honey, it's the mafia. According to official documents, no, but they could be easily hiding property under strings and strings of lies. I can dig through it, but it'll take me awhile. Maybe longer than we have."

"Right. First can you check on the building they used to house their scam?"

"I can. It was torn down in 04."

"Okay. Search into shell properties of Elena and her colleagues until someone thinks of something better for you to do," Rossi said wearily.

"Gotcha."

_20 hours into day 2. _

_/_

"What're we doing?" Alex asked as she and Hotch walked into the room.

"Sarah's mother, Elena Reese was a member of the Russian mafia," JJ explained.

Alex blinked. "Wow, we missed a lot. Go on."

"I've got Garcia looking into possible shell properties of her mafia cohorts. Could be a place Marvin's hiding out, could be a total coincidence," Rossi said.

"Well, it's something," Hotch said. "Should we consider doing a public appeal for information, just in case it turns out to be a wash?"

Rossi frowned. "We rejected that early on. Too much farmland- everyone's so spread out from one another that no one's likely to have any idea."

"I know, but we know who the unsub is now. Maybe if we saturate the media with his picture, someone will recognize him and tell us where he's hiding out," Hotch said. "We know it's isolated, wherever he's staying, but he's got to be getting food and drugs from somewhere."

"It's worth a try," Rossi conceded. "JJ, can you run the press conference?"

"Sure," JJ said, nodding and forcing strength back into her spine. She could do this much at least.

_22 hours into day 2._

_/_

"Hey, Garcia?"

"Look, I know you're all techno-illiterate, but you have to understand that the mafia is very secretive, and I have to dig through layers and layers of creative bullshit in order to-"

"Garcia, I need you to make sure Morgan doesn't change the TV station to channel 2 in the next half hour," Hotch interrupted.

"…find the- what? Oh, uh, sorry. Yeah, sure, shouldn't be a problem," Garcia said, blushing slightly.

"Thanks. Oh, and Garcia? We're not expecting a video call, but on the off chance we get one, do not under pain of death allow Morgan to see it."

"Duly noted my fearless leader," Garcia said, with a twinge of pain in her voice.

"You're doing good work, Garcia. Keep at it."

_23 hours into day 2._

_/_

"We are looking for a man named Marvin Reese. Many of you know him as a gentle man, a pillar of the community, but we believe he has information regarding a series of murders in the area. As many of you likely know, Reese's daughter Sarah suffered many tragedies in her short life, and it seems that Marvin is inflicting these same tragedies on his victims," JJ said, knowing that the cameras would display an image of Marvin behind her.

"Is it true that Reese is believed to have a victim right now?"

"Yes. Right now, Marvin Reese is holding a federal agent," JJ said, ferocity creeping into her voice. "He's holding a federal agent who offered up his own life, willingly, to save someone else. His name is Spencer Reid and he doesn't have much time left unless we find him, so if you've seen anything, heard anything, know of any place Reese may be staying, please call the number on your screens. Thank you." JJ tried to ignore the painful crack in her voice.

_24 hours into day 2. _

_/_

"Right, we're officially getting no video transmission again," Alex sighed. "Are we getting anything useful from the press conference?"

"Prank calls, and old ladies who want to feel important," Rossi grumbled. "I am, once again, out of ideas."

Alex nodded, pushing her dark hair out of her face. "I'm gonna go to the hospital and visit Morgan. Call me back if you get an idea."

_1 hour into day 3. _


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered, sitting in the chair Garcia had vacated.

"Yeah, me too. If I hadn't broken protocol, this wouldn't be happening," Morgan muttered.

"If I had broken protocol, I might have been able to protect you," Alex said, putting a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you're safe."

Morgan shook his head. "I'm not. Not at this cost. You shouldn't have let him do this."

"We didn't have a choice. You were going to die," Alex insisted.

"And now he is, if he's not already," Morgan muttered. "You shouldn't have made that trade."

"Hey, we don't know that. Don't give up," Alex said. "We'll find him."

Morgan grimaced and looked up at her. "Assuming the unsub is, for some reason, sticking to his normal schedule but skipping the video calls, we only have a few hours left. The first two victims took 9 and 7 hours, respectively, to bleed out, which gives us a few hours, tops. Then again, that type of devolving would be basically unheard of in the field of profiling. Everything I know about profiling tells me he's suffering a break that's causing him to accelerate, which means Reid's almost certainly already dead. Do you have _any_ evidence that _anything_ I said is untrue?" By the end, Morgan's voice had risen to a shout and Alex began to feel tears prick the corners of her eyes.

"Don't say that. Don't tell me to back down, because I won't. I will find him. I don't know whether it'll be in time or not, and whether it'll matter if it is, because I'm not thinking about that. We won't stop looking just because logic says it's too late because that's not what we do, Morgan, and don't tell me otherwise!" Alex said, breathing hard and shaking from the effort it took to keep her tears back.

Morgan gaped at her for a few seconds before grabbing her hand. "Don't give up on him, don't you dare give up on him."

Alex nodded. "I promise."

/

_2 hours into day 3._

"Hey, I've got the report on Morgan's clothes!" JJ announced, holding a folder high. "His shoes had a certain type of grass on them that's apparently only found in about a quarter of our previous geographical profile." She frowned, squinting at the pages. "Somebody else take this. I hate geographical profiles."

"We all do," Rossi grumbled, taking the folder from her. "Ugh. Okay. Coordinates are… Here we go." He grabbed a marker and drew in the new area. "All right, that's helpful."

"So the spot we're looking for is somewhere in there," Hotch said, gesturing. "Okay, we'll give the new map to the officers handling the phone lines to help them discern helpful calls from what we're currently getting."

/

_4 hours into day 3._

Garcia was becoming more and more convinced that she was onto something. After having bribed one of the nurses into letting her into one of the out-of-order exam rooms (broken light), she got to work undoing ridiculously difficult webs of mafia disarray.

And although the work was, at times, random and frustrating, she felt certain that she was on the tread of something. She was digging through Elena's financials when she found a weird trail through… something. Garcia hadn't figured it all out yet, but she was coming up with all sorts of shady activities the woman had been into that the prosecutors hadn't figured out. She wasn't sure, but she hoped that she'd find a light at the end of the tunnel.

Garcia was onto something.

/

_6 hours into day 3. _

"Hey, I've got something over here!" one of the cops shouted, lifting a phone. JJ made a mad dash for it.

"Hello, I'm SSA Jennifer Jureau, can you tell me what you saw?"

At the same time, Hotch picked up his cell phone. "Hey, Garcia, you got something?"

A few minutes later, two agents hung up phones and shouted. "1194 Red Blossom Road!"

The room immediately whipped itself into a frenzy. "I'll call the paramedics to come in behind us!"

"Let's go!"

/

_8 hours into day 3._

"C'mon, drive, drive!" JJ muttered through clenched teeth.

"JJ, this is the absolute fastest I can drive without risking killing us," Hotch replied. "I am literally doubling the speed limit. Has someone updated Garcia?"

"Done," Alex said. Even though they were still a few miles away, she had her hand on her gun, ready to go.

"We're coming, kid," Rossi muttered to himself, doing the sign of the cross.

"FBI, drop your weapons!" Hotch shouted as they barged into the basement.

Marvin Reese, sans stocking, looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked almost rabid with rage.

"Where is he?" he demanded. "That was the deal, I gave you back your agent! I need to complete the ritual, you said I could have him, where _is_ he?!"

Rossi frowned. "You lost him?"

"No, you took him from me! That was the deal, I get the boy to complete the ritual! Give him back!" Marvin shouted. He reached for a tire iron on the table. "Give him back or I'll take one of you!"

"Drop the tire iron!" Hotch commanded, raising his gun.

Marvin charged and Hotch shot him dead.

There was a brief moment of dead silence in the room. Then:

"Does the gunshot mean it's safe to come out?" said the wall, in a voice that sounded very much like Reid's.

They all turned and stared confusedly before finally Alex replied. "Yeah, it's safe."

A low hatch in the bottom of one of the walls was pushed open, revealing an absolutely filthy Spencer Reid.

"Hey, guys," he said.

JJ started crying. She dropped her gun and ran toward him, hopping over Marvin's body. She knelt down and frowned.

"You look like hell," she said, hiccupping slightly.

Reid shrugged. "Yeah, he didn't leave me alone long enough to find the hatch until he went up to get the video equipment at the end of the first day. I'm quite dehydrated, I've got a broken arm, fractured ankle, I think the cut on my neck is infected, and- somewhat ironically- a mild concussion, but I'm okay. Could someone help me up?"

Hotch walked over and silently wrapped his arms around Reid's waist, pulling him up and patting him on the shoulder.

Alex dialed a number.

"Alex? What's going on over there? Is he alive? Tell me what's going on!" Garcia begged.

Alex didn't reply and instead tossed the phone toward Reid, who missed it entirely and it struck him on the jaw.

"Ah!" Reid said, rubbing his jaw. "Don't do that, I have no hand-eye coordination on the best of days."

JJ smiled and handed him the phone.

"I-is that you?" Garcia stuttered in relief.

"Yeah," Reid replied. "It's me."

"Hang on, I'm putting you on speaker phone," Garcia said quietly.

"You are? Is Morgan with you?" Reid asked.

There was a pause. Then: "Yeah, kid, I'm here." Morgan's voice was thicker with emotion than Reid had ever heard it.

"Morgan! Are you all right? What are the doctors saying about your head? Are you still dizzy? Have they-"

"Reid, I'm fine. How about you? Are you… okay?"

"All things considered, I'm fantastic. A bit banged up, very dirty, and I could use a meal. I've been hiding inside of a wall for a day and 8 hours."

"A day and…" Morgan repeated, his voice incredibly relieved.

"A day, 8 hours, 14 minutes and-"

Morgan's laughing interrupted him. "Kid, I'm so glad to have you back."

/

After Reid was half supported, half carried out of the basement by Hotch and Rossi, they loaded him up into an ambulance to cart him back to the hospital. JJ refused to relinquish his hand the entire ride.

/

"Morgan, get back in bed- you'll see him soon enough, the doctors haven't cleared- Morgan!" Garcia said exasperatedly, following the determined man out of the room. "Will you at least let them bring you some pants first?"

Morgan, though slightly embarrassed about how visible he was in the hospital gown, ignored her studiously.

Finally Garcia sighed and followed the stubborn man out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, what happened with the whole magic wall thing?" Alex asked.

Reid, lying on the little bed thing while the doctor applied casts to his arm and ankle, was surrounded by the four agents who had rescued him and still refused to leave.

"I noticed it as soon as I got down there. The basement was architecturally anomalous- the room was narrower in one dimension than it should have been," Reid explained. "Because of that and the age of the house, I figured it had some sort of system like that. I was hoping for a tunnel, because I didn't know whether he knew about the history of the house, but he didn't so it all worked out."

"What do you mean, history of the house?" Rossi asked.

Reid frowned. "You know, Underground Railroad?"

"The house was part of the Underground Railroad? That's why it had the little hidden chamber?" JJ asked.

Reid nodded.

Alex grinned. "Wow. What are the odds?"

"Not bad, considering that this county has the highest density of existing Underground Railroad homes in the country… which I was telling you all about on the plane ride over here," Reid said, raising his eyebrows.

Rossi blinked. "Oh."

Alex bit her lip, still smiling. "Oops."

Hotch shook his head. "I will make a concerted effort to listen to your history rants in the future."

The door burst open and Morgan walked inside, a somewhat frustrated Garcia in his wake.

"Morgan, are you cleared to move around yet?" Reid asked.

"He's not, but he wouldn't listen to me," Garcia huffed.

Morgan ignored the discussion entirely and stalked over to Reid's bed, leaning over him. "Don't do that again, kid," he said in a dangerous voice.

Reid frowned. "It was my decision."

"It was a stupid one," Morgan growled at him.

"Morgan," Hotch said in a warning tone. "You can have this conversation later. Go back to your room."

"No, Hotch," Morgan growled.

The doctor straightened up, ignoring the emotional tension in the room. "Okay, the casts are about set. You can move around now if you want."

"Great. Can I have some food?" Reid asked hopefully.

"I'll have the nurse bring you something… and, ah, some pants for your friend." She exited the room.

"Okay. Reid, Morgan, you stay here and do what the doctors tell you to. The rest of us are going back to the hotel to get some much-needed rest," Hotch announced.

JJ squeezed Reid's hand one more time, then her and the rest of the team filed out of the room.

Morgan sat heavily by Reid's bed. "Kid, you shouldn't've done what you did."

"I had to," Reid said quietly.

"No, you didn't!" Morgan insisted, quickly gaining in volume. "You didn't have to give yourself up! You didn't have to try to die for me!"

"I wasn't trying to die," Reid replied calmly. "I was just trying to save you."

"Look, kid, it's a sweet gesture, but what in the hell made you think I wanted saving like that?"

Reid snorted. "Morgan, do you really think I know so little about you as to think you'd approve of my decision?"

"If you knew I wouldn't want you to do it, why'd you do it?" Morgan demanded.

"Because I wanted to do it. It was my decision, regardless of what you would've thought about it, regardless of what anyone would've thought about it."

Morgan slammed his hand against the wall near Reid's head, causing the younger man to jump. "Do you get it, man? What if he'd found a different house to hide in? What if it hadn't had a convenient little hidey-hole? What if he'd known about it and dragged you out? Do you realize what would have happened to you? Because it doesn't feel like you're getting it through your thick little skull!"

"Of course I know!" Reid shouted back, startling Morgan in turn. "God, do you think I missed it? Do you think I wasn't paying attention? I've got it, Morgan! I'm well aware of what nearly just happened to me! Every second I sat in that dusty little hellhole, trying not to move too much, to breathe too loud. I was afraid to sleep on the off chance I'd move and make a noise; that he'd find me. If I was afraid of the dark before, I sure as hell am now! I understood the situation quite clearly. I understood it when I volunteered. I knew the team may or may not find me in time, and I knew that even if they did it would be hell. I knew all of that and I went anyway because that wasn't what was important!"

"So why go?" Morgan asked. That was the answer he really needed. "Why go for me?"

"Because the moment I saw your eyes on that screen I knew you would die unless I did. We had no leads, we had nothing. You would be dead in a few hours without medical treatment. In that moment it was suddenly, horrifyingly simple. I volunteered in your place or you died. There was no time for a third choice, no time for any other way. I was the only thing between you and death. And I knew I'd never be able to cope with it if I let that happen. I made a choice, Morgan. It was my choice and nothing that could have happened in that basement could have made me regret it."

Morgan stared into Reid's determined eyes, knowing beyond a doubt that the man meant every word.

Morgan let out a deep breath. "Kid, you've gotta be the bravest person I've ever met."

Reid let out a tired smile. "Not brave. Just stubborn."

"Nah, Spencer. Brave," Morgan  
said firmly.

Reid glanced over and felt a smile twitch on his bruised face.

A timid nurse stuck her head in the doorway. "I've, uh, got pants and a sandwich?"

/

When the team returned the next morning, they found Morgan still in that chair, in a hospital gown and badly fitting drawstring pants. Although Reid was fast asleep on the crappy hospital bed, Morgan was awake, staring out the window.

"Hey," he said quietly, not looking over.

JJ put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. You guys get everything worked out?"

He shrugged. "Sort of. I think. I dunno." He sighed. "I never wanted anyone to do that for me."

"Did you get some sleep?" Rossi asked, even though the exhaustion on Morgan's face was answered enough.

Morgan shook his head. "Tried. Didn't go well."

"Should you talk to the doctor about sleeping pills?"

Morgan frowned. "No, I'll be fine."

Reid turned over. "Mmmghah?"

JJ handed him a sufficiently sugared coffee. "Morning, Spence. How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday," he mumbled, taking a huge gulp of the coffee.

"Well, if a half-naked Derek Morgan bursting into your bedroom won't make you feel better…" JJ said, laughing and smacking Morgan on the shoulder.

"Damn, I wish that happened to me more often!" Garcia said, winking at Morgan.

"Yeah, very funny," Morgan grumbled. "It's not my fault this damn hospital stole my clothes."

Hotch handed him his go-bag and dropped Reid's at the end of the bed. "Rescued it from your hotel room. You two wanna get changed so we can catch the jet home?"

/

Morgan was exhausted, but he knew he'd slip into nightmares if he tried to sleep again. Nightmares of what could have happened, or would have happened if Reid hadn't been quite so lucky. Flashes of Reid's face the way it looked when they found him after Hankel- empty and broken. Images of Reid on the floor of the basement, bloody and destroyed.

It wasn't worth the effort to try to sleep, but Morgan knew he couldn't keep it up forever. He was already over 24 hours with no real sleep.

"Hey, kid?" Morgan asked when Reid passed him on a coffee run.

Reid stopped. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Talk."

Reid frowned. "About what?"

"Literally anything. Tell me about… the tax laws of Omaha, or the history of candy corn, or whatever you want."

Reid nodded and sat down beside Morgan, close enough that Morgan could feel his body heat. "The earliest surviving work of literature we have is the _Epic of Gilgamesh_, from about the 18th century BC. It tells the story of the hero, Gilgamesh…"

/

"Do you think their friendship can survive this?" JJ murmured to Hotch.

He didn't need to clarify what she meant. "Yeah, they'll be fine."

"What makes you so sure?"

Hotch just gestured to the other end of the plane, where Reid was murmuring ancient literature while Morgan snored away on his shoulder.

/

Fin.


End file.
